The One With The Flirtation Agenda
by Exploded Pen and TLI
Summary: In which Archer's virtue may or may not be at stake, Trip may or may not keep it in his pants, and Malcolm just can't keep it in.


Disclaimer: Not ours.

Authors' Note: It's another pass-the-parcel fic by the two of us! We had a lot of fun doing this, and it's all done for a bit of a giggle. Hope you enjoy!

o o o o o

"I'm beginning to think somewhere along the line someone failed to explain to the Captain about taking sweets from strangers."

"You're only just realising this now?" Malcolm arched an eyebrow. "Does anybody around here actually bother to read my security recommendations?"

"It's on my to do list," said Trip absently, watching Hoshi attempt to communicate with someone absolutely hell bent on giving Archer what looked like... like... Trip paused. "What do they look like?"

"What do what look like? My security reports?" Malcolm stared at him. "Although that just confirms I've been wasting my Friday nights compiling the damn things."

Trip shot him a scathing look. "No not the damn reports, I mean the sweets, or whatever the hell they're tryin' to get the Captain to eat." He tilted his head. "Or maybe they aren't meant for consumption." His eyes widened. "Maybe they're like the box of pebbles that ended up, you know... and then... yeah." He glanced sideways at Malcolm.

Malcolm didn't so much as blink. "No, Commander, I'm fairly sure the unexpected pregnancies began and ended with you. The pellets the Fourth Minister is trying to give Captain Archer came from the buffet table by the southwest balcony. Something the Minister would doubtless have informed us of had the universal translator not burned out during the toasting speech." He turned to face Trip properly and raised his eyebrow again. "Or have you not been paying attention for the last half hour?"

"Maybe it's some kind of marriage proposal," said Trip, completely ignoring him as he tilted his head again. "Or some kind of sale - trying to exchange sweets for one of us perhaps." He grinned.

"Oh absolutely," Malcolm retorted. "The Fourth Minister of the Second Nabaren Assembly wants to marry Captain Archer, feed him sweets and have his babies." He shuddered slightly. "I can't believe I just said that; also, remind me to delete your romance novel collection when we get back to Enterprise."

Trip blinked, his attention snapping back to Malcolm. "Who said anything about them having babies? That's...that's just twisted!" A gruesome mental image sprang to mind and he shuddered. "So wrong." He blinked again. "I do not have a romance novel collection!"

"Yes, you do." Malcolm looked faintly smug. "They're in a folder in your computer directory labelled 'Antimatter Convergence in Warp Seven Engines'. Almost poetic, in its own sickeningly sweet kind of way. Hang on a second," he added, glancing over at Hoshi, the captain and the minister. "Looks like someone's finally managed to communicate... something." Out of reflex, his trigger finger twitched.

They watched as the minister suddenly upended the bowl onto Archer's head in frustration, spilling the brightly coloured pellets everywhere.

"Oh this bodes well."

"Ya think?"

Malcolm's eyes were on the minister's staff, watching for any clue as to their reactions to what had just happened. "Just remember this is all your fault."

"How'd you figure that?" Trip demanded.

Up went the eyebrow again. "You flirting with the Minister's sister directly preceded the UT burning out. Probably overloaded the damn thing."

Trip shot him a dark look but said nothing, watching as Hoshi frantically began making placating gestures and speaking in a low voice to the Minister. Archer removed the bowl from his head looking totally bemused as another pellet dropped out, bouncing off his nose and leaving a bright green smudge across his skin.

"Phlox is going to have a field day with this," Malcolm muttered. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the Fourth Minister's two-man security detail back away towards the ballroom's main entrance, and he relaxed. Slightly.

"Assumin' the local divorce courts don't demand alimony in blood," Trip smirked, although he was by now as alert as Malcolm was.

Malcolm casually dropped his hand to his side, where the phase pistol was resting in its holster, as Hoshi started looking worried, the Minister firing off rapid speech at her, his face gradually turning an interesting shade of purple.

The Minister's security detail returned.

"Bugger," Malcolm cursed quietly.

He made eye contact with Captain Archer, who quickly dropped his gaze to Malcolm's phase pistol before looking back up again. Shifting slightly on the spot to watch Hoshi being literally backed into a corner by the now almost apoplectic Minister, Malcolm heard rather than saw Trip say: "Got an escape plan?"

"A good tactical officer always has an escape plan," Malcolm murmured in response, mentally tallying up the number of possible hostiles in the room again as his eyes fell on all the possible exits.

Unfortunately there were ten possible hostiles, not counting the Minister, and only two possible exits -- the main entrance, which was already covered by the Minister's people, and the balcony, which if memory served stood over a twenty foot drop onto gravel.

"So that's a no?" Trip's voice had gone up a pitch.

Malcolm eyed the alien security detail again. "That's a not yet."

The Minister threw up his hands, spitting some, presumably alien curse at Archer. They watched as the Minister stepped back, his foot landing on a cluster of the fallen pellets, his eyes widened in surprise, his arms windmilling out at his sides as he fought to retain both his balance and his dignity.

Malcolm winced as the Minister finally lost his battle with gravity and fell hard onto the marble-like floor. If the Away Team hadn't been in trouble before, they most definitely were now. Before he could do anything, however, a shrill series of beeps from Hoshi's corner of the ballroom caused everyone to turn toward her.

"Oh!" Hoshi stared at the UT in surprise.

She quickly started working the translator's controls, a determined frown on her face; it was almost funny as everyone else in the ballroom remained frozen in their positions, waiting to see what would happen next.

Her face suddenly brightened and she straightened, waving the device in triumph. "Got it!"

"Got what?" the Minister asked her from the floor before stopping himself, realisation dawning on his face. Waving off a hand from one of his secretarial assistants, he awkwardly pulled himself to his feet and looked at Hoshi. "I can understand you again," he said. He sounded immensely relieved.

"Now hopefully we can resolve this misunderstanding," said Archer with a winning smile, reaching over to offer the Minister a hand up.

Malcolm glanced round the room, noting the security detail resuming their 'at ease' positions.

"Captain's got it sorted," Trip muttered to him confidently.

Malcolm gave Archer an assessing look. "This is going to be another animal metaphor speech, I can sense it."

If the captain heard Malcolm's last comment he didn't show it, nor did he look at all embarrassed at realising that the Minister was already on his feet; thus he didn't need any more help getting up. He just pulled his hand back, tapping his fingers against his thigh briefly.

"What misunderstanding?" the Minister asked Archer. "I - I don't believe I've had this much fun since the last time I was on diplomatic liaison duty."

Archer blinked. "What? But I, we thought - "He shook his head as if to clear it. "Well I guess we'd better get back to business, then!"

The Fourth Minister regarded the captain with a grave expression. "I don't know what you think took place while your communications officer attempted to fix the translator, Captain Archer, but I can assure you I will bear no malice for any minor injuries sustained."

"Wow," Trip muttered. "Sounds just like you."

Malcolm narrowed his eyes, but didn't reply.

"That's great, Fourth Minister," Archer pulled out another winning smile.

"So what was with yelling at Hoshi?" Trip said under his breath.

Malcolm discreetly elbowed him.

Fortunately nobody else had heard him. Instead the Fourth Minister was now looking at the mess of pellets on the floor around him and Archer. "Dayvel, clear this up!" he called.

Immediately one of the security detail darted over to one of the buffet tables and rummaged around underneath it. A few seconds later he approached the pellets with something that looked a lot like -

"A pooper scooper?" Trip actually giggled.

Malcolm almost snorted but managed to cover his amusement with a small cough. Archer glared at them both as Dayvel reverently scooped up the fallen pellets.

The Fourth Minister waited patiently until the last of the brightly coloured mess had been cleared up before speaking again. "Now Captain Archer, where were we before this amusing little interlude?"

"I believe you were chatting up his sister," Malcolm murmured to Trip.

"While you were makin' eyes at Dayvel over there," Trip shot back in an equally low tone.

Malcolm gave him a dark look.

Trip put on his most innocent expression. "Don't go pullin' faces now Lieutenant, you'll scare the locals."

Archer flashed Trip an annoyed look that clearly warned of dire happenings if they kept talking. He pasted on his most diplomatic expression. "I believe before the technical fault we were talking about... ah..."

"Star charts and long range scanning frequencies," the Minister supplied helpfully. He took Archer's arm. "And during the technical fault, I believe we were on the verge of discussing the language of flirtation."

Archer coughed politely. "Perhaps Commander Tucker should field this one."

Trip successfully inhaled his own spit whilst Malcolm firmly directed his gaze to the floor, definitely not smirking or even smiling. Hoshi hid her mouth behind her hand, her gaze sliding irresistibly back towards Trip.

"Commander Tucker?" the Minister repeated. He let go of the Captain's arm, and turned on Trip, looking at him as if he had only just realised there was another Starfleet officer in the room. "I wasn't aware you had such... expertise in this particular arena."

Trip made a strangled noise, but didn't say anything.

"The art of flirting can be very complex," Hoshi piped up.

Trip shot her a pathetically grateful look as if he believed she'd decided to rescue him.

"But Commander Tucker has proven himself more than adept at it," Malcolm added helpfully.

Trip's face went red as he glared at Malcolm, no doubt already plotting the numerous ways he could kill him later. Malcolm merely raised his eyebrows.

"Oh my," the Minister said. "That is very interesting." He glanced back at Archer. "But perhaps we should save this discussion for a more suitable setting. You and your team will be staying for dinner, yes?"

"I believe so," Archer grinned.

Malcolm discreetly nudged Trip. "Maybe you can say hello to the Minister's sister again," he murmured

Trip sighed. "Will ya just let that go, already?" he asked. "Bein' nice to people isn't just a ploy to get into their pants. You should try it sometime."

"Which part?" Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "The civility, or getting into their -"

"Gentlemen!" Both men started, and looked up to see the Minister watching them. "You're among friends here; surely there is no need to conduct your business in whispers!"

"Forgive us," said Malcolm standing to attention with his hands behind his back. "We didn't mean to be so rude, Minister. I apologise."

"Yeah, we do," Trip added. "The lieutenant and I here were just discussin'... duty rosters."

"I'm sure their discussion has ended now," said Archer.

The Minister smiled. "Excellent, shall we make our way to the dining hall?"

Archer smiled. "After you," he replied. He shot warning looks at Trip and Malcolm as he and the Minister, joined quickly by Hoshi, walked past them and out of the ballroom.

"When did it become our fault the Minister's gotta crush on Jonny?" Trip wondered quietly.

Malcolm rolled his eyes.

The Minister swept from the room, Hoshi and Archer following on close behind him. Malcolm and Trip fell into step with them and Malcolm raised a brow as the entire security detail from the room crowded behind him and Trip.

Any hope that Malcolm had of the dinner going any more smoothly than the initial meeting in the ballroom dissipated when he realised that in comparison to the sweeping, almost majestic ballroom, the Fourth Minister's dining room was little more than a shoebox with windows. It would have perhaps served as an intimate location had there only been two people, but with a party of at least five, Malcolm wasn't feeling very optimistic.

The Minister sat down at the head of the table and gestured for the rest of them to sit as well. Archer and Hoshi on the one side and Trip and Malcolm on the other, although Archer did momentarily pause, giving the two men a doubtful look that clearly suggested he wasn't sure they could behave themselves properly. Malcolm adopted a carefully blank face, choosing to ignore the security detail - now back to just the original pair, squashing themselves up against the back wall of the room.

It also didn't escape Malcolm's attention that the Minister had visibly brightened up when Archer had taken the seat next to him.

It hadn't escaped Trip's notice either judging by the beaming smile he was flashing them both.

"So," Archer began, likely more out of a need to break the silence more than anything else, "what's on the menu?"

The Fourth Minister beamed at him. "I had our chefs take the liberty of attempting to replicate some of the dishes in the information packets your science officer sent us during first contact yesterday," he explained. "Using local ingredients, of course."

"Wow," Archer said. "That sounds - ambitious."

Malcolm caught Hoshi's eye and she gave him a distinctly apprehensive look. The Minister clapped his hands together briskly, four times and more people began filling the room, setting down the starter in front of everyone.

Archer stared at the food. "Ah, what an interesting shade of blue," he managed.

"Toad in the holes!" The Fourth Minister sounded practically joyous. "Tell me Captain, do you actually use such marine life when preparing this fresh?"

And just like that, Malcolm knew he had lost his appetite.

Trip nudged him. "This... isn't a starter dish," he muttered.

Malcolm blinked at him. He truly couldn't think of anything to say.

Nothing that was suitable for the dinner table, at least.

Hoshi stared at her plate with barely concealed revulsion. "Minister, I think there may have been a slight misunderstanding about this particular dish."

"What kind of misunderstanding?" the Minister asked, clearly confused.

"Toad in the hole is just the name of the dish," said Hoshi awkwardly. "It doesn't actually, uh, reflect what goes in it."

"Lieutenant Reed could probably explain what the actual dish is," Trip added helpfully. "It's a British meal after all, isn't it?"

Or it used to be.

Malcolm briefly wondered if he could claim emotional trauma as a result of the alien butchering of a classic dish, only belatedly realising that everyone in the shoebox of a room was waiting for him to speak.

He cleared his throat. "Toad in the hole is the name given to a meal that consists of sausages in a large Yorkshire pudding, usually accompanied by mash potato, assorted vegetables and gravy." He stared down at his plate. "We don't actually use toads."

Especially not ones that were bright blue with four eyes and six legs, or at least it sort of looked like a toad. If he squinted... and tilted his head to one side.

And then let his vision blur.

"I see." The Fourth Minister looked entirely unfazed. "The Grell toad is the speciality of our head chef here. However, I'm sure you'll find his interpretation of your dish to be quite palatable."

Opposite Malcolm, it looked like Captain Archer was waging battle against his own doubts. "I'm sure we will, Fourth Minister," he eventually managed.

"There's no more need for such formality, Captain," the Minister said, touching Archer's arm lightly. "Call me Orias."

"Okay... Orias." Archer attempted a smile.

Hoshi went very pale beside him, staring at the Grell toad on her plate. She swallowed and gingerly poked it with her fork. Malcolm watched her a moment before turning his attention back to his own dish. He took a deep breath and stabbed it with his fork, using the almost pathetically blunt knife to saw a chunk off. The room had gone silent and Malcolm suddenly realised everyone was watching him, waiting for him to taste it first.

If possible Hoshi went even paler, her eyes fixed on the chunk of toad meat dangling off the end of his fork. The Minister beamed and gestured for him to eat it. Malcolm took a deep breath and shoved the toad meat in his mouth. And chewed. And kept chewing whilst valiantly attempting not to screw his face up or spit it across the table.

The slimy masticated flesh slid down his throat. "Mmm," he managed, not daring to open his mouth in case it made a repeat appearance.

A few seconds later he realised that it was going to take more than a grunt and a pained expression to appease their hosts. Wishing he had something to wash the toad down with - like say, some scotch - he eventually managed: "Tastes like catfish."

It really wasn't wrong that he got some satisfaction at the sudden queasy look now gracing Trip's face.

It wasn't wrong at all.

The toad sat heavily in his stomach, churning, and clearly fighting with something internally as everyone else picked up their forks. The Fourth Minister dug into his with gusto but the others were far more tentative, staring at the toad meat as if it would fight back.

Which judging from the pained noises Malcolm's stomach was making, wasn't too far off the mark.

Malcolm swallowed. Nope, no good. "Excuse me," he blurted out, clamping his hand over his mouth and pushing his way out the room.

Watching him leave, Trip nudged one of the security detail - Dayvel, if he remembered correctly. "You might wanna make sure he gets to a bathroom real quick," he said.

Nodding, the guard hurried after Malcolm.

"So." Trip turned back to the table. "Wow, yeah. Uh, I'm full." He pushed his plate in towards the centre of the table.

The Minister eyed him carefully. "But you've barely touched your food, Commander!" he said.

"Yeah..." Trip nodded. "I, uh, had a big breakfast this mornin', still full from that, I'm afraid."

Hoshi went an interesting shade of green, looking like she was frantically trying to come up with a reason - any reason - not to sniff the damn toad, never mind put it in her mouth. She carefully set her fork down and turned a truly apologetic expression on the Minister. "I'm sorry Minister, I neglected to mention earlier that I am a vegetarian, and as such I don't eat meat. I do apologise."

Archer turned wide eyes on her.

"No, no, Ensign, I'm the one who should apologise!" the Minister replied quickly. "It was shameful of me to have my chef prepare these dishes without ensuring that you would all be able to eat them!"

He looked crestfallen, so much so in fact that Trip knew it was only a matter of time before -

"What would be more of a shame would be to let all of this effort go to waste."

Trip had to hand it to his friend. He was the only guy he knew who could fake this much sincerity and not get called on it.

It also meant Archer now had to suck it up and eat the toad, something which judging by the look of it, had only just occurred to the captain.

Malcolm returned to the room looking far more dishevelled than he had a few moments before. "Sorry about that," he said through gritted teeth, as he sat down.

Trip leant over. "You okay?"

"Fi-" Malcolm paused, then clamped a hand over his mouth and ran from the room again.

"Is the Lieutenant alright?" The Minister asked, staring at Malcolm's abandoned seat in irritation.

"I think the Grell hasn't agreed with his system," said Archer delicately, looking as if he were trying to calculate any possible escape routes.

"That truly is unfortunate," the Minister sympathised. "Perhaps we had better leave the meal for now, so as not to encourage the lieutenant's discomfort."

For the briefest of moments Archer looked as though he could have kissed the Fourth Minister. "If you insist," he allowed, sliding his plate away from him and getting up from the table before anyone could object. "Should we return to the ballroom?"

"A marvellous suggestion, given the circumstances," the Minister replied. He took Archer's arm again, and steered him towards the door.

Falling in behind them, Trip nudged Hoshi. "Lucky escape."

"Yeah." She still looked pale. "I hope Malcolm's alright."

Trip nodded. "Once it's outta his system, he'll be fine," he reassured her.

"Yeah but how long that's going to take?" Hoshi swallowed and nibbled her lower lip. "Did you see how many eyes that thing had?"

"God knows what the next course would've been," Trip pulled a face.

He nudged her again. "We reckon the Fourth Minister is just a little bit enamoured with the Captain there." He gave her an exaggerated wink, hoping to make her smile.

Hoshi stifled a giggle, and rolled her eyes at him.

"A little?" she repeated. "He's been trying to jump the Captain with his eyes ever since we got out of the shuttlepod."

Uh... okay. Trip had nothing to say to that one. "Well, as long as he doesn't try t'propose," he said eventually.

"No, he did that right before the upending the bowl of those fluorescent pellet things on the Captain's head," Hoshi replied.

"Huh." Trip thought about this for a moment. "We still get to keep the Cap'n though, right?"

Hoshi smiled. "Yes, we do, Commander."

Trip smirked. "Boy is Phlox gonna be disappointed about optin' outta this first contact."

"Oh yeah."

Malcolm staggered out a door to their left, looking as if he were trying not to hold his stomach or bend double, with a deeply traumatised looking Dayvel in tow.

Trip clamped a friendly hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "How're you doin', Mal? Toad stopped jumpin' yet?"

Malcolm groaned. "You sadistic son of a-"

"Lieutenant!" The Minister stopped in his tracks, bringing everyone to a halt. "I'm so glad you're able to rejoin us."

"Me too," Malcolm grimaced.

If the Minister noticed the shell-shocked expression on Dayvel's face as he fell into position with the security detail he didn't show it.

"How're you feeling, Malcolm?" Archer asked kindly, giving Dayvel a bemused glance.

"Oh, words couldn't possibly describe it, Captain," Malcolm replied through gritted teeth. "I take it dinner's been cancelled?" The look of sheer relief that appeared on his face when Archer nodded would have been funny under any other circumstances.

As it was Trip just felt even more grateful for his own narrow escape from said dinner.

The group started to move off again, the Minister and Archer at the front, closely followed by Hoshi with Trip and Malcolm bringing up the rear. Trip risked a glance at Malcolm and patted his shoulder.

"You know we could shy out of this thing and get you back to Phlox," he murmured. "There isn't anything here to protect except the Cap'n's virtue."

Malcolm snorted. "Not that he'd actually notice it's at risk."

Trip nodded, conceding the point. "Alright, but we can still get y'out of here."

Malcolm closed his eyes briefly, taking a few shallow breaths. "Okay," he said, opening his eyes again.

"Yeah?" Trip waited for confirmation before quickening his pace, slipping past Hoshi to tap Archer on the shoulder. "Cap'n? Malcolm's not feelin' too good, and well, I thought rather than go through the dinner experience again -"

"We could invite the Fourth Minister to dine on the Enterprise," Archer finished slowly, taking in Malcolm's condition in a quick glance.

The Fourth Minister positively beamed. "A meal on your ship? Marvellous! And what have I told you? Call me Orias!"

Archer returned the smile. "That's settled then!" He turned back to Trip and Malcolm. "Lieutenant, Commander, why don't the two of you return to the shuttlepod and contact Subcommander T'Pol regarding the change in plans. Hoshi, the Four - Orias - and I will be with you shortly."

"Sure, we'll see ya in a bit," Trip nodded, hooking and arm round Malcolm's shoulders and heading back down the corridor he was certain led to the exit.

"Dayvel," The Minister called. "Show the Commander and the Lieutenant the way out, before they get lost."

Hoshi made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a giggle as Dayvel dutifully directed Trip and Malcolm down the correct corridor.

A few minutes later they were outside in pale blue sunlight, and Shuttlepod Two was visible at the far end of the courtyard..

"I think we've got things from here," Trip said to Dayvel. "Thanks for showin' us out."

Dayvel nodded silently before returning to the main building.

Malcolm's stomach made more gurgling noises. Trip eyed him warily. "You okay?"

"Fine, can we just get back, please?"

Trip looked back at the main building. "What did you do to Dayvel anyway? Poor guy looked traumatised when you came out."

Malcolm groaned.

"If you must know, neither of us actually said anything while I was... otherwise occupied during dinner. And unless the Nabaren have exceptionally queasy dispositions, I didn't do anything to - traumatise him, either."

Malcolm was getting snippy. Had to be feeling better.

Or maybe not. Malcolm groaned again before bending double and throwing up.

Trip absolutely did not squeal like a little girl and throw himself backwards out the line of fire.

Malcolm straightened again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He stared down at the mess. "Huh, despite the fact my stomach's still doing somersaults I actually feel kind of better now."

"Better out than in I guess," said Trip very pointedly looking straight ahead.

"And just to reiterate my point from earlier," Malcolm replied, "that Grell toad tasted exactly like pan fried catfish."

"You're never gonna let that go, are you?"

"Not in this life time, Mister Tucker." Malcolm barely spared Trip a glance before walking quickly the rest of the way to the shuttlepod. "Now the sooner I can sic my own security detail on those two would-be love birds and take the rest of the day off, the better."

Trip gave him a look of mock shock. "Lieutenant Malcolm Reed actually admitting he wants the day off, you must be feelin' sick."

"Ha, bloody, ha." Malcolm squared his shoulders and started moving towards the shuttlepod.

"You realise if I tell Phlox you've admitted this he'll never let you leave Sickbay again," Trip continued, a broad grin stretching across his face. "The Great Malcolm Reed, for the first time in his life is 'not fine'."

"The last time I checked, I was neither a robot nor a Vulcan," Malcolm retorted. "Nor am I immune to bloody aliens butchering meals from my childhood. Now, I propose we move forward, and actually contact Enterprise so we can get back all the quicker, and today can become an ill-recalled memory, never to be recorded in detail again."

Trip nodded. "Fine by me."

Malcolm stormed off ahead, his whole posture suggesting it was only stubborn willpower keeping him from bending double and whimpering. Trip followed on behind, increasing his pace to keep up. Malcolm opened the hatch and climbed in, throwing himself onto one of the seats, he'd gone paler so Trip moved past him to the communications area.

"Shuttlepod Two to Enterprise," he said.

"This is Enterprise," T'Pol's voice replied. "I trust everything has gone smoothly with the representatives of the Second Nabaren Assembly."

Trip glanced at Malcolm, who was beginning to regain some of his colour. "Yeah, you could say that," he replied. "Although... could we skip on the details for now?"

"The details?" T'Pol repeated.

"Yeah," Trip said. "You really don't wanna know."


End file.
